


Philophobia

by karatecat



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Archive Warning Justin Case, Fear of Thunderstorms, Kissing, M/M, No Sex, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pseudo-Incest, Romantic connotations with minors, Sharing a Bed, The warnings seem extreme but its actually pretty vanilla in here, confused feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-09-26 03:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20382610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karatecat/pseuds/karatecat
Summary: Tim and Damian hated each other, so why the hell was Damian in Tim’s bed at night?





	1. Chapter 1

“_**Holy**_–!” Tim inhaled sharply, instinctively jerking back from the shadow looming over him. Rationale flooded his mind as hastily as his trained eyes adjusted to the darkness and he let out a deep sigh. “…Damian…” Tim closed his eyes once more, willing his racing heartbeat to calm down at the same time his solace was quickly turning to agitation. He gritted out in an exhausted, raspy tone, “What the hell are you doing here, Damian?”

Sure, it wasn't entirely impossible for some whack-job enemy of theirs to break into the manor and into Tim's room, but none of Gotham's whack-jobs Tim had on file resembled a snotty, ten-year-old brat he unfortunately knew.

No, unfortunately, that relationship was reserved for one demon child and one demon child alone.

“...Just making sure you’re not wetting yourself over the storm,” came the response after a cursory pause. 

Seriously? It was too late for this shit.

Tim was about to dismiss Damian with an uninterested, finalizing quip of his own, forcing the child to go be annoying somewhere else, but something in Damian’s tone sounded... off. Devoid of the entitled confidence it usually held and never ceased to irritate Tim to all hell.

Tim’s brows creased, flicking his eyes back open. He’d opened his mouth to speak when the room illuminated, thunder roaring after the crack of lightning, and he could hear Damian’s breath hitch as if on cue.

_Is he... scared?_

Tim sat up and focused his attention on Damian, arms crossed tighter than usual. Hugging himself, essentially. His gaze was cast intently on the ground and Tim could only assume Damian knew he noticed his little slip-up. 

Tim gaped on a moment longer then raised the covers in which Damian’s attention all but snapped upwards.

To Damian, it was an invitation. To Tim, it was a test. 

Damian stared at Tim with wide eyes, another bright flash exposing the disbelief reflected off them, the apprehension, and Tim figured that’s why he nodded despite himself, silent permission for Damian to step forward and crawl into the space. He knew better than to expect a thank you of any kind from the younger. He didn’t wait for one either.

Tim slid over unnecessarily so to the edge of the bed, facing away from Damian. There was room for the two of them to comfortably sleep on the queen-sized mattress, but he figured the kid wouldn’t want to be close. Damian already seemed disheveled by the storm. He didn’t want to add to that discomfort.

Although, for a second Tim considered the opposite to be true because wasn’t contact the most helpful in lessening anxiety? He could remember a few occasions where Dick or Bruce held him and he felt better.

But Tim was neither of them and his relationship with Damian was no comparison. The last thing he needed was Damian attacking him in his own bed then Tim would get pissed off and the whole situation would turn into a real mess real quick. 

_It’s better this way_,Tim decided.

His logic, in hindsight, ended up being a moot point because that morning Damian was pressed against his back as if the room was cold, a hand loosely clenched on the shoulder blade of Tim’s shirt. He never would’ve pegged the brat to be a cuddler. It was odd, to say the least. Tim almost didn’t want to move in anticipation of what might follow. The initial shock would come then ‘**Get away** **from me, Drake!**’. A shove, an insult, some sort of indication that this was Tim’s fault.

A headache to be saved for another day.

Tim stirred, instead, as if adjusting his position in his sleep in which Damian’s hand jerked, the light sleeper that he was. Tim wondered how much rest he managed to get with the storm.

There was a delay before Tim felt the warmth of the younger withdraw from his person. The mattress creaked as Damian climbed off and light footsteps padded across the floor. Tim listened until the door shut.

Some time passed as Tim lay awake. He could turn around now finally. In doing so he placed a hand where Damian’s body heat was a faded reminder and began to think.

Maybe it was cold in his room after all.


	2. Chapter 2

After that night, neither one mentioned what transpired. A week passed when Tim was walking down the poorly lit hall and noticed Damian. The younger kept his gaze pointed forward, focusing on a spot beyond Tim’s head and Tim only spared him a second’s glance before crossing paths and continuing his decent downstairs.

At lunch, the two argued like normal. Tim thinks it was Damian that started it this time. Bruce didn’t bother shooting them his stern look. He merely sighed, leaving the table and the bickering for Dick to handle, their older brother obviously trying to cater to both sides, but Tim always thought he was more bias towards Damian.

“He’s ten, Timmy. You have to remember that.”

It annoyed the living hell out of him. The insinuation that since Tim was older, he should be the mature one and “let Damian win”, and how Dick would call him Timmy as if the warm, pet name could soften the betrayal.

Dick always chose Damian over him. Even though Tim was there first.

Tim purposefully ignored Damian the rest of the day. Not that he didn’t usually ignore him, or make it a point to ever interact with Satan’s spawn, but he may have ventured alternate paths of the manor. He may have acted as if he didn’t hear Dick when he asked him to tell Damian it’s time for dinner. He may have accidentally locked his bedroom door that evening despite Bruce’s imminent scolding he’d receive if Bruce were to find out.

He didn’t wish to talk to Dick, Bruce or anyone, so when they came to his door they would quickly get the memo.

Hours passed and Tim’s eyes grew weary staring at his television for so long. He clicked the power button on his remote and dragged himself to bed. It was past midnight already, but it was raining so he would sleep well tonight. The pitter-patter of the droplets against his window pane always made for a good night’s rest for him, no matter how irritated with his family he was.

It was a light, calming sound, but somewhat strange tonight. Tim lifted his ear off his pillow to listen more intently. It didn’t quite sound like a cricket or cicada. It sounded more like…

Tim turned to the door and deducted it to be the source of the strange noise. Intrusive in its interruption of his hypnotizing lullaby.

He stiffened, then, alert. What intruder would keep trying to open his door though? Wouldn’t they just break in? Or maybe they were trying to be stealthy and sneak up on him.

Quietly, Tim got to his feet and crept forward, a baseball bat in tow. He was inches from the door, his thoughts racing with possibilities and queries until one in particular stopped him dead in his tracks as his hand hovered over the rattling knob.

_No. It can’t be…?_

He opened the door and there his suspicion stood, body tense and eyes blown in surprise and… fear…

“Damian…” Tim breathed. He actually felt somewhat bad for him. Knowing he’d locked the door and Damian probably just wanted to run into his room. How did he react when he realized the door wouldn’t open?

Damian made an incoherent sound, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt and looking elsewhere. “Can I…? Uh…”

Tim frowned, then stepped to the side. Immediately, Damian entered and went straight for Tim’s bed, bringing the covers up higher over his face when the crack of lightning roared from outside.

Tim made a conflicted expression, leaning the bat against the wall and following after the boy to climb on top of his own mattress. “Let go for a second, Damian,” he said, emotionless. “I would like to get under the covers too.”

Damian’s vice-like grip relaxed just enough for Tim to pull the comforter over his body and he made himself as comfortable as he could manage given the situation. Which, right now, wasn’t much at all.

No one spoke for a long while. Tim laid on his back staring up at the ceiling and Damian remained in his curled, tight ball, hands cupping his ears. Tim was looking at him now. It was beyond strange. Seeing this side of Damian. He thought the last time was a dream almost (_a nightmare,_ he reminded himself) but here he was again and it was deja vu. Was Damian even aware of how he was acting? How out of character? Why didn’t he go to Dick’s room?

Tim’s lips parted a bit, on the verge of asking all of these questions and more, but he stopped. He didn’t want to know. Asking would mean he wanted to inquire more about Damian and the less he knew the better. The less relationship they shared, the better. He would let Damian sleep here, if that’s what he wanted, because despite what his family thought Tim was a good person and he was mature. He would do this for anyone.

But that notion wasn’t what settled Tim’s screaming mind or incessant thoughts. It was that these nights weren’t real. These nights proved something foreign. An alternate reality that had no place in the real world. By morning Damian would be gone and everything would return to as it were. So, for a few hours, Tim could allow it. Tim could allow reality to be lost for just a few hours.

With that, he closed his eyes and let exhaustion take over as he drifted to sleep.


End file.
